


Lights Across The Water

by Solar_Sylvilagus



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [3]
Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Banishment, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, No Beta, We're still in drabble land
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 06:49:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20305225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solar_Sylvilagus/pseuds/Solar_Sylvilagus
Summary: Even if he died. Especially if he died.After all, that was the point.





	Lights Across The Water

**Author's Note:**

> Writer's block had me grinding to a halt on this project, but we're getting back into it.

After all, hadn't he been expecting this? Still, their kindness was shocking to him. Ruined their lives, and here they were, sending him off with rations and tools, enough for a couple of torches and campfires. On the condition he didn't come back. Even if he died. Especially if he died.

After all, that was the point.

* * *

At least it was autumn. As late in the season as it was, at least it was autumn. Nothing much to worry about, except getting enough distance in between him and the main camp to keep the viking girl from marching out with a spear, all too ready to stab it through him. Like the kebab he'd had one of his first nights in this miserable place.

Wilson had managed to survive all alone for who knows how long. Surely he could manage it too? After all, he'd made the place. After all, Wilson had managed it.

Perhaps that spoke more to his detriment than anything.

* * *

Only so much room, only so much food, only so many resources. Three new arrivals. Of course, they'd wanted him gone, or else they'd have merely cobbled something together as they always did. But it made a good excuse, so off he'd been sent.

And he was sure this jerky was stale. It was most definitely stale, because it was like chewing a rock. More so than usual. Couldn't even give him something fresh? Not to mention the implications of it being stale. Not enough food? Rubbish.

At least having to spend a good hour chewing every bite would make it last longer. All he had to do was save a piece or two for the Pig King, so he could have some gold to use until the next meteor cycle. If even the swine would take this.

* * *

Lights from the lunar island brought murky memories swirling up, of city lights across black waters and salty but beautifully fresh air, and Maxwell pointedly turned his back to it.

* * *

The robot, bringing some meat and trinkets for gold. Their eyes narrowed at the sight of him with a cat cap pulled tight over his head and still alive. Nothing was said, but they still watched him for a bit longer as he drove a spear, perhaps a bit too aggressively, through a catcoon.

When he woke up the next day, he was surprised to find himself and his camp in piece.

Still, that night, he stayed huddled by a campfire, with the snoring of the Pig King making his ears ring.

It took a few nights before he'd accepted it. They had no intention of killing him. Surely that had been their plan all along? Just too cowardly to do it themselves. No matter. He was alive. And that was all that counted.

* * *

He was alone again.

And the fire went out.


End file.
